Another tradition I failed to keep

As much as I try to keep up with doing all the fun things for the holidays, I find myself failing more and more each year.  It started last year when girl number three arrived.  I had an excuse for not going anywhere and for not doing anything.  I mean, hell! I had a baby, might as well have no limbs.  It’s a good excuse to get out of doing shit too.  This year has really been no different with girl number four.  We barely colored Easter eggs, had to force ourselves to go see fireworks (told us that it would be too loud for the little ones) and we sailed nowhere on Columbus day, what? you didn’t either?

So far I am sucking ass when it comes to earning any awards for being the “World’s Best Mother”.  So fast forward to one of my more favorite, just for fun holidays, “Halloween”.  The temperature is perfect, the leaves are a beautiful mix of autumn tones.  The season itself is the best in my opinion, sweater weather where I’m from.  I look forward to apple and pumpkin picking, hopping on a wagon and going for a hayride while drinking hot chocolate or warm apple cider.  Sounds delicious, doesn’t it?  It did…until reality said, “you’re a dumb-ass”.

Things did not turn out like planned this year, mostly because somewhere between wiping ass three and ass four, I forgot what month it was.  The fall decorations are still boxed up in my basement, where they will stay until next year; possibly the year after.  It doesn’t help that my step daughter (girl one) is only here every other weekend.  The weekend that we happened to have her, we also had two swim meets to go to and a birthday party in the middle of the day, leaving no time for pumpkin picking and other warm fuzzy shit.  So we packed up the kids and made a trip to our local Wal-mart to get pumpkins, I know….don’t even go there!  It’s hard to make that an event.  It’s like “look kids! big boxes of pumpkins!” FAIL.

This is from our trip:

pumpkin fail

After picking our pumpkins from the lovely selection of left overs, we trekked back home.  Of course by this time, the kids needed to eat (by law, we are required to feed them).  I hate cooking, I hate dinner, I hate fucking cooking dinner.  After our blissful meal, where no one screamed, cried or whined about what they were eating %$&%$%#@@@#$!!!!!!!!   We got prepared to do a little pumpkin carving…..oh wait, time for bed for the babies.  About an hour after telling them to go the fuck to sleep, I mean reading them stories and singing lullabies, we started carving.  Girl one didn’t want to finish carving hers because she was tired, so the pumpkin was left on the table half done.  Girl two took forever to finish hers, and stalled so she could stay up late.

My husband and I played the groping game during this time (feel free to read about that after, if you haven’t already).  This was the highlight of the night for us.

Here we are having some fun with photos in the process:

Yours truly, check out my pumpkins!!


My husband, Batman.  He will go along with anything.

I love that goofy bastard!


Girl one

girl 1

Girl two

girl 2

Just another way I failed as a mother.  The tradition got lost somewhere, and I was too busy groping my husband to help the kids.  Worst mother ever, but good mom from time to time.  Two days later, the pumpkin girl one started to carve, rotted on the kitchen table, where it decided to stink up the house and leak moldy pumpkin juice.

But at least we had pumpkin seeds, which I realized I can’t stand.  Every year I look forward to them, and every year I spit them out.  It’s like chewing raw wood, they suck.

But everyone else loves them.


It is 6:30pm here now, the day before Halloween. Girl two has a costume that isn’t finished yet.  I forgot we had girl four, so she’s gonna have to wear girl threes costume from last year, and to round out this splendid series of events; we ate a shit load of candy.  We will most likely run out before trick-or-treating is done tomorrow night.

This was packed tight and filled to the brim.


Happy Fucking Halloween!


“Type hard! Like you mean it!”


I opened a twitter account- and I’m still not cool


I opened a Twitter account.

Why? I have no idea. 

The last thing I need is another distraction to pull me away from things I should be doing.  I asked myself, “self, why do you want a Twitter account?”  But that bitch had no answer. What do I have to say that is remotely interesting? nothing really.  I stay home with kids all day, so what am I supposed to Tweet about? dirty diapers? that shit is gross, no pun intended, but maybe I’m that witty and it was. I do like to talk about sex, I hear that is popular.  Then again, this blog is my personal blog, so do I really need to tweet about it? and is Tweet supposed to be capitalized or not?

My 11 year old said, “you have Twitter? why? you are no one, only cool people have that”.  She’s an idiot, a ton of losers have Twitter accounts, and now I’m one too.  So my first ‘Tweet’ was a test post, and to be truthful, I felt like a jackass making it.  It was like listening to my daughters one sided conversation with Siri on her iPod.  Being new, I am basically just talking to myself, but publicly now for people to judge.  Will I stick with it, I don’t know. If I have enough followers then I suppose I will. I had to laugh, because after I set up my account on Twitter, I had one follower already.  So maybe I will just stalk that guy and comment on everything he says.  Nah- that would be weird and who has time for that.

Maybe he followed me because I have half naked pictures of myself up, I didn’t think guys were like that though.  That’s a joke, the guy followed me because he knows I’m going to be funny and cool……one day. He actually is funny already, I read his stuff (maybe that is stalker behavior).  I’m going to mention him here, after all- he was my ‘first’ and don’t we all hold a special place in our hearts for our ‘first’.  I don’t think anyone will read this anyway.   This is him: @tfpHumorBlog on Twitter.  Website:  Thank you random Twitter guy 🙂

So if you stumble across this post and you want to hear about the ‘nothing’ I do all day, then follow me and I can give you updates on my kids bowel movements too, this is me: @DyeStormere on Twitter.  Occasionally I will talk about other things like, vagina’s, boobs and penis’ oh my!!  Should that be penises? or pe-ni? or penis’— hmmm?  I’m not a writer BTW- I just type stuff out in random paragraph format making it appear as though I know what I’m doing.

Just keep in mind I have no idea how to use Twitter yet, so if you see one of these things –># in my post, it was probably an accident.

“Type hard! Like you mean it!”

Be grateful


Just a message to be grateful for the time you have with your children, it could end any minute. 

This morning I was getting annoyed about a comment my daughter made while we were waiting at the bus stop.   She told me “don’t come into my class when you pick me up”, because it would embarrass her.  She usually takes the bus home, today she had a doctors appointment so I would have to go to the school to get her.  After she got on the bus and left for the day, I just started getting more and more irritated by the remark.  First of all, I’m a pretty cool mom, I mean look at the shit I talk about, right? 

I admit, I do try to embarrass her on purpose.  It’s fun and easy to do. I don’t need an excuse, I’m the mom—-that’s why.

Anyway, while I was stewing I realize that tomorrow my daughter would be 11 years old and 17 days.  I know that doesn’t sound like anything significant to you, but to me; that’s how old my brother was when he died, exactly 11 years old and 17 days.  I was young when it happened, and as much as I remember the day, I am grateful that I couldn’t comprehend what was going on at the time.  The thought brought tears to my eyes, I can’t even imagine what it would be like to lose a child.  I have no doubt that my mother would go through years of being ‘annoyed’ just to have my brother back in her life.  So I decided to just let the comment slide off my back, because if something were to happen to my daughter I wouldn’t want my last thoughts to be filled with irritation.  The remark was trivial on the scale of things.  So when I picked her up from school, I gave her a hug….but not in front of anyone like I normally would have done to embarrass her.

Choose your battles and make sure they are worth it.

“Type hard! Like you mean it!”


Why she doesn’t want sex with you


I have had this conversation with a handful of men and women.  Usually the men are complaining about not getting it enough, and the women about not wanting to give it.

I’m am going to use the term ‘wife’ in this post but it really applies to your non-sexual, sexual partner, regardless of their label.

Dear Dye ~ Why doesn’t my wife want sex with me?

You are probably an asshole.  Have you considered that?

There are many different things that could contribute to you being an asshole.  I’m not just implying that for no reason.

This is an old debate, one that you no doubt already know the answer to. Men need to be nice.  Not just “I want sex” nice, but always nice.  Once you have crossed that line from being the nice guy to being the asshole– good fucking luck turning that around.  I’m not saying there is no hope for you, but I am strongly suggesting that, that might be the case.

Chances are, your wife used to want sex with you, but somewhere along the way you started expecting it.  Silly, silly man!

I’m not just talking out my ass, I’ve been on both sides of this fence.  I have always been a sexual person, I enjoy sex, need it and look forward to it.  I spent 11 years with an asshole, and stopped liking it, wanting it or needing it.  This isn’t a rant about me pointing out my Ex’s flaws, honestly…it is a bonus though, an enjoyable side effect if you will, but not the purpose of this post.

As a woman, I don’t want to be asked for sex all the time.  I don’t want to be harassed about it either or made to feel like it’s my job…my wifely duty.  I have that mind set, the more you ask for it…the less I want to give it.  Not sure why, but it’s like saying “can you wash the dishes?”, when I already plan on it–don’t tell me what to do.  I know my job.  Not that sex is a job, but I want to have it when I want, not when I’m told to.

This might be a relatable comparison.  You are on your way to take out the trash, your wife says, “hey, can you take out the trash”– now it feels like you are doing it because she told you to, even though you were on your way to do it anyway.  Who wants to be told what to do? not many people.

Some helpful tips:

Stop fucking asking for it.  I know what you are going to say, “If I don’t ask, I’ll never get it”.  That’s not true, but you can’t say “hey honey, I haven’t even asked for it in a month” or “look how good I’ve been, I haven’t even asked”.  That’s the same as asking and woman aren’t that stupid where they can’t see through your bullshit.  In the time that you are not asking for it, why don’t you try to do some nice things, like complimenting your wife.  Taking care of the little things.  Go build something!

Another thing that will not help your cause.  If your wife isn’t comfortable with her body, stop asking her to put on something sexy or suggesting that she wears something revealing.  Women have body issues and the last thing we want to do is have to explain it.  It actually makes women feel less sexy when they can’t wear what you want.

Have confidence, a man that whines or drones on saying things like “why don’t you want me?” or “don’t you find me attractive?” is incredibly un-sexy.  Grow some balls and be a man about it.  Most women want a man that is sure of himself, don’t confuse this with being an asshole.  There is such a thing as over-confident.

Now, that being said—some women just want to be taken.  Not raped, dumbass– but taken.  Treated a little bit more dirty, like you just can’t get enough of her.  Push her up against the wall and don’t ask, just do it.  Keep in mind though that you should be able to read the situation before you try this approach.  Women are ‘complicated’, so don’t try this approach if your wife is on her way out, in the middle of something that is important to her, just got all pretty to leave the house or if she is in a pissy mood.  Ya, good luck trying to guess which mood she’s in.

Depending on your wife, reverse psychology can work too.  Does she have low self-esteem.  Sadly this one works on me, I know who I am.

My husband has always told me that I’m out of his league, he makes me feel sexier than I really am.  At the same time, I hate when he says no to me.  I’m not trying to toot my own horn, but no one has ever said no to having sex with me (that does sound conceited).  Let’s face it, men will have sex with just about anything, at anytime.  So to hear no, is just a slap in the face.  Drives me up a fucking wall, I don’t like hearing no.  I will try everything I can to get him to say yes.  Now I don’t know if he does this on purpose, maybe he is some evil genius…muhahahaha.

My ex-husband always asked for it.  He would make me feel like that was my job and that is what I was put on this earth to do.  I got to a point where I just went through the motions but didn’t enjoy it after a while.  It became routine and annoying, I really did like the sex actually, but not with someone that was an asshole.

My current husband? No, not an asshole.  Nice to me all the time, and does the little things to make my days brighter.  Also, he doesn’t always want sex, which is probably why I always want it.  Come to think of it, I wonder if I pressure him? Ha! I don’t care.

So if you try all of these and fail, you are more than likely doing it wrong.  My suggestion would be to get her toys, then learn to jerk off.  Hey, I’m not a fucking therapist, were you expecting quality advice?

Good luck by the way.

“Type hard! Like you mean it”


The groping game

Keep things interesting in your life.  My husband and I are like a couple of horny teenagers most days.  Every chance we get, one of us is groping the other.  Either it’s him grabbing at my boobs or ass or me grabbing his junk.  We can’t walk by one another without groping at something.  Half the time it’s just done because ‘we can’. 

We have a house full of kids, so this can be challenging at times.  As of recently we find ourselves trying to get away with it more and more without the kids noticing.  We have four girls in the house, two of them still crap their pants and have no clue, but the other two would know what was going on if they caught us. 

So our game:  Who can get away with groping while the kids are in the same room without being caught.  I swear, we are good parents, but don’t you wonder what the fuck your parents did when you were a kid? 

Each time one of the kids turns around or their gaze moves to another direction, one of us is grabbing at the other one.  This makes for a fun time and it keeps things interesting in our house.  So now we just randomly shout out points, like I will grab his junk real quick and shout out, “50 points!”.  Flashing is point worthy too, of course this is easier for me than my husband so I usually win. The goal is not to get caught by the kids, otherwise– huge point deduction there, well that and you don’t want your kids to see that shit.  This is also fun in public, around anyone in fact. So have fun, add some fun into your marriage and try it.  But don’t get caught, you don’t want to encourage that ‘groping’ is fun to your kids.

We are thinking of a point system for this and maybe set a daily goal– gotta have goals.  I will be sure to post them if we do.

“May the odds be forever in your favor”

“May the force be with you”

and other stupid quotes that people use way to fucking much!

“live long and prosper”

but my favorite because it’s mine

“Type hard! Like you mean it!”


poetry “~Suck~ A Simple Word”


Such a simple word with its one syllable sound

The way it lingers on your tongue before you utter its note

To the whispered breath you use to pronounce it

A hush vibrates as it pours from your lips

and in a hiss it brushes my ear

As your finger passes my kiss and I take it in

Slowly sucking

I pull deeper and push out

offering slight licks

Not knowing what you plan

The look in your eyes ‘hungry’

while I gently nip

Leaves me to wonder

where you will place its wet tip

Will you trace it along my neck?

Maybe play it along each breast

I can only imagine what you will offer me next

Perhaps you’ll circle around my waist

Eventually fall between my legs

Every image

Every thought

Has me on edge

Provoked by its simple one syllable sound

~ Suck ~


Cat’s are bitches!

Sometimes you just have one of those days that you think will be promising but it ends up just being a mess of shit before it ever really gets going.  When I woke up this morning, I told myself “happy thoughts”.  I really do have a lot to be happy for.  But when you are faced with a few piles of cat vomit before making it to the coffee maker, it can really put a damper on your day.  See, I have two cats.  These cats like to eat everything that we fucking forget to put away.  Here are just a few examples of some of the shit they have eaten.

Headphone wires (at least 10 pair)

Plastic bags and wrappers                                                             catvomit

Hair ties

Anything made from rubber

-rubber bands

-rubber bracelets

-rubber pencil grips

-rubber pieces of any kind

-shrimp and potatoes

-shrimp and corn

-are you still reading this crap?

-I’m off on a Forrest Gump tangent.

-but you get the point, yes?

Anyway, where was I?  That’s right, nothing says “Good Morning” like cat vomit.  That’s just the first ten minutes of the morning.  Once that happened, I gave up any hope for the rest of the day and just settled with the knowledge that “tomorrow is a new day”.

Just for the record, I do love the cats, they just piss me off.  Vomit is the last thing I want to deal with, especially that early in the morning.  It doesn’t help that they kept rubbing up against me while I was cleaning it.  Almost like a big F U! Look what we can get away with.  


I’m sure it’s just a matter of time before they start crapping rubber bouncy balls with all the junk that they eat.

Bet you can’t wait for that post!


“Type hard! Like you mean it!”


poetry “Playdate”


Full box of new toys
Take them in and out all day
Some things you don’t share


poetry “Fuck Me! ~ Mature Conversation”


“What do you want?” you ask

“ladies choice”

that ‘is’ always the case

but I don’t want to be a lady

I want to lose my voice


no need for you to speak

wait till I’m through

I’m tired of nice  

of being….’made love’ to


there are times when days are rough

or when all hell breaks loose

when the only thing I need

is to be fucked by you


everything you give

has always been great

no different tonight

I just have particular taste


give me a hard time

like you did the other day

a little forceful play

while I try to resist

bound and cuffed

tied at the wrist


push me around

I’ll pay my fees

pull me down

knock me to my knees


get your hands in my hair

I just want to give

I need to be lost

to feel like I’ve lived


don’t be selfish

you haven’t so far

come take a taste

of how I get when you’re hard


while my hands are still bound

and stretched over my head

grab me

grip my thighs

and force me to spread


with fingers inside

and your tongue on the way

don’t stop or quit

just treat me like prey


come find my mouth

crash into my lips

a rough and passionate kind of kiss


when you’re finished the tease

bend me over the bed

so you can give it all to me

make me plead and beg


put your hands around my neck

when you’re grabbing from the back

pull me into you tight

offering no slack


and when you’re ready to give

give me ‘all’ you can give

I want to feel your grip

when I’m ready to drip

till my breaths are done

and I’m ready to cum


that’s what I want

what I want to do

no being ‘made love’ to


because tonight

all I want

is to be completely fucked by you